


Angels Fall (Without You Here)

by Blue_Equinox_2



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Depression, Derek Helps Stiles, Derek and Stiles are Mates, Implied Depresion, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 12:51:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7685356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Equinox_2/pseuds/Blue_Equinox_2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are some nights when Stiles can't sleep, when his condition gets the better of him. Derek is always there to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angels Fall (Without You Here)

**Author's Note:**

> There isn't any dialogue in this piece in this one, I think it detracts from the trouble Stiles faces from within himself. Words aren't always necessary. Stiles is depressed and is Derek's mate.

He can’t do this again. It’s already happened three times this week. Derek promised to always help him, but at some point the werewolf needs his sleep, he doesn’t need Stiles and all of his problems too. Stiles battles with himself for a little while, laying in the nice sheets in their bed.

It’s been  _ their  _ bed for three months now.  _ Their  _ house for two months. The pack helped to break down the old Hale house, and helped to build a new one. It’s big, three floors and  a new basement, extra rooms for visitors and crashing after pack meetings and a huge kitchen that he and Derek bake in together. Erica and Boyd got their feet under them and are leasing a small house, Isaac and Scott are sharing an apartment downtown. 

But on nights like this, looking around their room and out the french doors onto their balcony isn’t enough to keep the darkness away. Not from the nogitsune, no this is different. He already takes pills in the morning and before he goes to sleep, but they can only do so much. 

He doesn’t want to tell Derek, doesn’t want to disturb how peaceful he looks when he’s sleeping. So he lies next to his fiance and stares at the moon above the treetops. The ring on his finger feels like it holds the weight of the world, he can't mess this one up. It’s at times like this when he wants to run. 

God, Stiles wants to run so far that Derek wouldn’t ever be able to find him, because he doesn’t deserve Derek. He could take his jeep to the airport and fly somewhere, anywhere, where he could hide from that perfect face. But it doesn’t make sense. He loves Derek, he’s going to marry him in less than a year! But here he is, thinking about running because commitment is something he’s never had before and it’d be better to run and cause them pain now, rather than later when they’re in too deep. 

Because he would, Stiles would somehow manage to mess their dream up. In some small part of his brain he knows that it’s the anxiety he’s never been able to shake. His fears of being abandoned drive him to extreme plots despite the bond mark on the juncture of his neck and shoulder, a promise of unity and love. 

Stiles feels like utter sadness lying in their bed, his mate warm against his side on the September night. How is he supposed to make this work, hold up his side of their love, when he can’t hold himself up?

He can’t be in here any longer, he’ll end up waking Derek. So he slips out of their bed, carefully moving the arm draped over his torso. Stiles pulls on a pair of sweatpants, his own, not Derek’s like he normally would. Then comes a long-sleeve shirt and a pair of socks. When he’s set he crosses the room, checking that the doting man is still asleep. He is. 

The door is silent as it opens, the cool air making him appreciate his forethought of getting dressed. Looking one more time that Derek is still sleeping he closes the door  and it’s like he can suddenly breathe again. The sharp, crisp air wakes him up, all traces of tiredness gone. But the physical tiredness is different from the mental one that’s hanging over his body and mind now. The sadness, the darkness, presses against him, like if he reached out, his fingers would meet some tangible force. 

It’s hard to realize that the everyday battles can’t be seen, but still need to be fought. 

He sits in the corner where the railing meets the house, on the floor, head leaning against the cold metal bars. It’s gaining on him, pressing into every fear that he has, that he’ll leave Derek, or worse, Derek will leave him. It turns his securities into questions and then makes it all depressing. The darkness is calculating, articulate, precise.

Stiles doesn’t keep track of how long he stays like that, drowning in himself while taking in the beauty of the woods. The bats fly between the trees, trusting themselves to survive, to simply be. The occasional owl voices itself and he knows that there are other countless animals that in the woods, functioning in the dark. They only come out during the night, occupied during the day with another part of their lives. 

He stays there, almost in the fetal position, feet flat on the floor and his arms wrapped around his knees. It feels less vulnerable this way, as if protecting himself from the visible darkness of the night can keep the internal darkness at bay. Eventually his legs fall asleep and his fingers get cold. 

The pressure on his shoulders hasn’t gone anywhere, instead it grows as he realizes that any other person Derek could have chosen to love would be lying in bed with him, still peacefully asleep, wrapped together, sleeping through the night like a normal couple. It makes his heart ache. 

He can’t possibly be good enough for Derek. Yet there’s a ring that claims just that. It’s confusing and makes him exhausted, on the verge of sobbing or muteness. He wishes that he was never this way, there are lots of people who claim that they would never go back and remove a disease or even from their life because it has made them who they are today, but he is not one of those people. 

This depression has ruined his life, made him lonely and secluded, while wearing a mask of enthusiasm for everyone else to believe. It’s because of this chemical imbalance that he doubts the man who asked him to be his mate and fiance. Stiles hates the way this makes him feel, the emptiness that conquers where his personality should be, where his happiness and curiosity normally would be, it makes him feel different, undesirable, 

The woods change from a dark black to a barely noticeable dark blue, evidence that he’s lost track of the time again. He should go back to bed, but that would be avoidance. Or maybe it would be action. The lines are beyond blurred and there is not clear route to success, it’s all shades of grey. So movement doesn’t happen and he lets himself drown from within. 

He thought that love would conquer all, yet it is not a cure as he had hoped for. There is no cure for what he has, only coping to make life more manageable and that’s not overly optimistic. There is a way to be normal, self-correction and balance, which he doesn’t fully understand yet. Sometimes he can take care of himself and others Derek needs to find the scattered pieces of him and build him together again. 

The cold becomes frigid when a breeze picks up and now he wishes more than ever that he could go back inside, but he can’t, there’s an invisible force that keeps him tethered to their balcony. He closes his eyes and thinks about the weight that he can touch within himself, the weight that holds him down on nights like these.  

He told Derek that he’s getting better, which he is. But it feels like a lie, how can he be getting better when he still finds himself leaving his bed at night to be alone, so he can try and deal with it by himself. 

Stiles listens to the sounds of the forest: the rustling of leaves, movement of insects, and chirping of crickets. It’s peaceful in it’s own way, a clearance in a haze. His mind goes fuzzy and he loses all concentration. The feeling of coldness floats away from him and he stops focusing in his vision. More time passes and the clouds have moved and the moon is out again, it’ll be full next week which means a pack weekend. The thought usually gets him excited to see everyone all at once, but now he feels indifferent. 

Stiles floats for what seems like forever before there’s a feeling in his back, towards his neck, to where his bond mark is. He knows instantly that it’s Derek. He probably woke from the lack of contact and knew he would be out here, it has the best view in the entire house, overlooking their lawn as it merges with the forest. 

Neither of them make a move and the weight is back, heavier than before. He waits for what he knows will not come, Derek telling him to leave, to never come back, to get Deaton to find a way to erase the bond. Derek’s feet pad quietly on the floor and come into view, barefoot, a reminder of their biological difference. 

He finds a heavy blanket being placed over his shoulders and Stiles can feel as Derek tucks it around his body, wrapping him as much as possible. Then he sits next to his lover, not touching, not yet, he knows to wait a moment. They stay silent but it’s different now, he’s not alone. Derek didn’t tell him to leave or that he didn’t love him anymore, a small victory that he logically knew was always there, but the confirmation eases the weary pressure on his heart. 

They stay that way until the weight has lifted enough that he can stand being touched again, his body sags and shoulders droop under the blanket. Derek recognizes the response and moves himself closer so their sides are pressed against one another. 

It’s small steps from there, Derek’s hand finding his and holding in a way that makes him feel safe. 

Eventually the color of the sky does start to change, such a miniscule way that if you hadn’t been staring at it for a long time you would never notice the difference. The dark blue begins to brighten, the treetops not seeming as daunting and tragic as before. The stars still shine as their shoulders touch and then a large arm is wrapped around Stiles’ shoulders, urging them to come together again. 

They don’t say anything, there’s nothing to be said. They both know the reason that they’re on their balcony during the earliest hours of the morning.  Derek knows about the darkness and knows that he can’t fight for Stiles no matter how desperately he wants to, so he does what he can, show his love in the way Stiles needs, silent encouragement to make it through another night. 

When he feels tired enough his body melts against his mate’s and Derek fluidly puts an arm under his knees and one across both shoulders and picks him up without showing effort to put the younger man in his lap. They stay like that, Stiles taking Derek’s love, leaning against his solid frame as he drifts asleep again. 

Before he gives himself to the peaceful lull Stiles rubs his ring and tangles his fingers with Derek’s, grasping tightly. He lets everything that’s left within him work its way out and he quickly falls asleep, protected by the gentle arms holding him to a warm chest. 

Derek sits outside and holds him, looking at the skyline between the trees and the stars in the sky. With Stiles asleep he stays on the cold floor in the chilled air and gazes at it all before he takes them both back to bed. 

Love is not a cure, but a beacon and Derek always guides him home. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think! Kudos and comments are always loved!


End file.
